


102.5 Degrees Fahrenheit

by usabuns



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: FEIF: Revelation Verse, M/M, Revelation Route, Sick!Ryoma, Xander Totally Coddles Him, ryoumarx
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-06 00:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6729760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usabuns/pseuds/usabuns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't a usual occurence for Crown Prince Ryoma of Hoshido to fall ill to a <i>trivial</i> sickness such as this; in fact, it was rare for him to even <i>contract</i> any sort of illness at all.</p><p>This time, though, he was not so lucky. It must've been because of some enemy soldier, or maybe it was the cold weather of the unfamiliar north--<i>whatever</i> the reason, he was now cuddled up in a million blankets and silently suffering in bed. </p><p>And, for the first time ever, Crown Prince Ryoma of Hoshido felt <i>absolutely useless</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	102.5 Degrees Fahrenheit

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a lot of requests on Tumblr for a Sick!Ryoumarx, so naturally I felt obligated to write this little drabble up. This was really fun to do, so I hope you enjoy it just as much as I did!
> 
> And remember to leave some comments or tell me if I made any typos!

Currently, he couldn't stop himself from fussing over the small pot of miso soup on the stove; these Hoshidan foods were awfully complicated and required all of a person's attention. Was the stock too strong? Were the _daikon_ not chopped finely enough? And then there was the tofu--did Ryoma even _like_ tofu? 

The heat of the kitchen prompted Xander to wipe his forehead free of sweat. Exhaling deeply, he creased his brows as he tasted a sip of the broth from a spoon; to him, it was _adequate_ , but for the other, who had been eating this dish all his life, would it be less than acceptable? Perhaps he should've asked Hinoka or Sakura for advice on preparing the meal... 

It was too late for regrets or worrying, though, because no sooner had he thought these things than a pitiful groan erupted from a room down the nearby corridor, accompanied by an abrupt sneeze. " _Damn_..." Xander shook his head wearily, a grave expression on his face. Ryoma sounded _extremely_ sick. "He'll be wanting this right about now. It's nearly _noon_ , and it won't do him any good to delay his lunch..." 

Xander busied himself with stacking the proper utensils on a silver tray (he had never seen such a big and oddly shaped spoon before now), along with a myriad of napkins and a tall glass full of water. He turned the knob on the stove off, then carefully poured the contents of the pot into the bowl he had brought out. The hot liquid steamed and spewed for a moment, and then Xander allowed himself to breath an inhalation of relief. 

This relief was short-lived, however, as Ryoma began a coughing fit in the other room. Cringing, he hastily picked up the platter and exited into the hallway, dark eyes focused onto the ground as he prayed that his precious cargo would not spill. 

**+++**

It wasn't a usual occurence for Crown Prince Ryoma of Hoshido to fall ill to a _trivial_ sickness such as this; in fact, it was rare for him to even _contract_ any sort of illness at all. 

This time, though, he was not so lucky. It must've been because of some enemy soldier, or maybe it was the cold weather of the unfamiliar north-- _whatever_ the reason, he was now cuddled up in a million blankets and silently suffering in bed. 

And, for the first time ever, Crown Prince Ryoma of Hoshido felt _absolutely useless_. 

He could not _stand_ to leave his family and his people at the mercy of the world, fighting a war, when he was lounging around in bed, sick as a dog. The dreadful feeling bit and scratched the inside of him like a wild, hungry animal deperately trying to claw out of its cage. 

Ryoma laid in a heap upon his mattress, coughing madly and sneezing every time he attempted to sit up properly. His nose was clogged up beyond repairing and the frown on his face seemed to be a very permanent thing in the coming days. His energy was drained, his body was numb from the waist-under, and his mood was at an all time low. 

At the sound of footfall, he ceased his loud noises, opting to instead bring the sheets up to cover his face, as a way to muffle himself. No one else needed to be disturbed because of him. 

A brisk, sharp knock came after the footsteps stopped (right in front of his door); for a moment, all was silent, because Ryoma knew _exactly_ who was on the other side. Now, here this person was, coddling him instead of fighting. He tensed up, briefly thinking of all the lives that could now be lost due to the other prince's simple plea of looking after him; he was one of their strongest soldiers, and yet he was here, helping Ryoma recover from the flu... 

At last, he made his decision, as careless as it was, and he grunted, but begrudgingly responded with a gruff, "Come in." It seemed as if Xander had had his hand on the doorknob the whole time, because he swooped into the room almost immediately after the last word left Ryoma's lips. 

An exquisite aroma pelted his nostrils and managed to penetrate through the tons of snot stored inside and waft into his brain: _miso soup_. The smell was unmistakable, that _had_ to be it. Sitting up, he furrowed his brows indecisively and pushed his thick, spiky hair out of his face, blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision. " _Xander_ ," he breathed, sternly, with a deep frown pulling his lips downwards. 

The other prince made no indication that he had heard Ryoma speak. Instead, he continued with his own pestering, "You look _awfully_ warm with all those blankets on... But, I suppose since you're running a fever, you feel cold at the moment..." His sentences seemed to be stated to no one other than himself, like mindless thinking out loud or checking things off a to-do list. 

Ryoma cleared his throat (which was presently _very_ sore), raising an eyebrow skeptically. "Yes, that's exactly it. Don't remind me." With that, he crossed his arms adamantly, simply staring at Xander as he adjusted the meal atop Ryoma's bedside table. "You don't need to pamper me like this. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself." 

"Not in this condition. I hope you're sensible enough to know that, at least." He shook his head before grasping the water-filled glass in his gloved hands. "Besides, it is no trouble for me to do these things. It's actually quite... _enjoyable_ to be more in-tune with this side of myself. Usually it was _Camilla_ who took care of the parental duties and affection, but lately I've been...more _welcoming_ of that part of me." Crawling up one edge of the king-sized mattress, Xander lifted the glass up to Ryoma's face. "Open up; you need fluids if you are to overcome this ordeal." 

Ryoma tightly gripped the other's wrist, eyes narrowing dangerously. "I said that I could do it _myself_ , Xander." A glint of fire in his irises, he snatched the glass aggressively, but not so violently that the contents spilled. Playfully, Xander lifted a brow, eyes cold, and bit his lip while flicking a few of the other's chestnut locks to the side. 

"Now, Ryoma." Xander made a few 'tsk' sounds before continuing, "I expect much better manners from a _Prince of Hoshido_ , even _if_ said Prince is sick." His stare continued to linger on the other, pressing the last few shreds of careful self-confidence out of Ryoma's body. Xander's expression turned blank and dry as he watched Ryoma down the cool, clear liquid almost out of spite. His tone shifted into one of seriousness, "I can tell how much you hate it." 

Ryome finished off the rest of the water with his eyes firmly set on the other Prince, then spoke up again, louder this time, "Oh, _really_? You'd have to be some kind of _genius_ to figure that one out." Sarcasm dripped dangerously from his voice, making Xander lower his face, eyes shut and mouth a straight line. Ryoma groaned at the action, reevaluating his words in his mind. "Sorry, it's simply that... Yes, you said it right: I _hate_ this. I hate being useless while everyone else risks their lives in our defense. _Okay_? Happy now?" 

There was a certain tightness and briskness (and--was that _pride_ he detected?) in his voice that Xander could not quite place at the moment; it seemed so out-of-character for him to snap that he could only attribute it to his clouded, ill-striken brain. " _Relax_ , Ryoma. Don't strain yourself with such stress; it isn't going to help you recover anytime soon." 

Deep in his heart, he knew it was true, but he didn't dare give Xander the satisfaction of hearing those words escape his lips. Instead, Ryoma's mouth slanted into a sharp, indifferent line, eyebrows twitching slightly as he folded his hands in his lap. "They need you out there, Xander." Ryoma sneezed abruptly, to which the other prince responded with a quick tissue being stuffed into his nostrils after a hasty 'Bless you.' "You're the one who has to lead them when I am unable to. Without you, they have no guidance, no beacon to look towards for help. It was daft of you to come here, to do this all because I was careless enough to get ill." 

Xander only gave a cold little sneer, then frowned adamantly at his words. "Are you mad? Have you no faith in our comrades? They fight valiantly to protect our lands, and here you'd have me believe that they're unintelligent enough to fail us as soon as we leave the battlefield? Disgraceful. We've trained them well enough; I'm positive that they'll be able to handle themselves with just the right amount of poise and strength, Ryoma. I believe--" 

"--You misunderstand, Crown Prince Xander of Nohr." The interruption was firm, piercing, and also slightly stunned. It cut through the air like a knife, making the room deathly icy. He crossed his arms, then rose his voice for emphasis, "Do not put words in my mouth. I was merely stating that _somebody_ needs to be put in charge of the war strategies currently being employed on our battlegrounds. Someone to oversee the fight, to give orders. Our fighters are more than competent enough to hold their own against enemy forces, Xander." 

An eyebrow raised, then a devilish smirk appeared across the Nohrian's features. "Then, if that is the case, it should be no problem for me to accompany you while you are sick. After all, you need someone to oversee your progress. To give orders." Ryoma, mouth slightly agape and eyes locked onto Xander, could only lean back into his pillow, shocked and yet with an odd sense of pride for the other male. 

A good, hearty laugh found it's way to his throat as he put his hands behind his head, taking in the whole atmosphere. "You Nohrians are so treacherous. Using my own words against me! Ha! Who would've thought it?" Xander only gave an elated little grin at this, a hint of pink brushing his cheeks as he plucked Ryoma gently on the lips, cupping his strong jawline in the process. The prince leaned back just as quickly as he had come in for the kiss, awkwardly kneeling atop the mattress as if he couldn't figure out what to do next. 

"Ah! I almost forgot." In a spurt of realization and then impatience, Xander sat up, tensed, and hopped off the bed, brows creased. He clicked the metal spoon against the rim of the beautifully designed bowl containing the miso soup. It was bound to be lukewarm (maybe even a tad on the cooler side) by now. Their little conversation had halted Xander's constant pampering. 

A smirk found its way to Ryoma's lips as he gave a regal laugh. He continued laughing in his rather delirious state, as if too proud of what he had accomplished. "Foolish Nohrian! Distracting you was my plan all along, and quite easier to do than I expected!" 

An equally cruel smile came to rest upon Xander's features as he licked his lips, inhaling the deep, rich scent of broth. "Your tongue is sharp, Hoshidan, but do not forget that I could just as easily devour this meal and not give you _any_! Now... Open up, little Prince." 

Ryoma never said another word.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [Tumblr](http://www.usabuns.tumblr.com) for more drabbles & fanfic announcements!


End file.
